


Heat

by ElwritesFanworks



Series: Higgins wants the 'D' [1]
Category: Magnum P.I. (TV)
Genre: Attraction, Awkward Crush, Chest Hair, Denial of Feelings, Drinking, Fear of Discovery, Hot Weather, Jumping to Conclusions, Longing, M/M, Muscles, Paranoia, Possibly Unrequited Love, Running Away, Sexual Tension, Shorts (Clothing), Summer, Sweat, Temperature, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Voyeurism, Watching, Water, Wet Clothing, exercise, heat - Freeform, thirst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-17 18:52:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1398727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElwritesFanworks/pseuds/ElwritesFanworks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Higgins contends with more than temperature changes with a heatwave settles over the Estate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heat

**Author's Note:**

> Just watched Black on White while procrastinating on a term paper. This correlated with me sweating to death under a much-too-heavy blanket, which got me thinking about temperatures. This fic is the result.

* * *

The heat of Hawaii was not as stifling as the heat of India or North Africa, but it was still a heavy weight over the Masters household. It was an immensely cloying, clinging sort of heat, and it was nigh unbearable during the height of a particularly balmy summer. Not that Higgins would show it, of course. His years of military experience and sense of propriety didn't allow him the luxury of lounging around nearly naked, basking in the sun like some great, entitled reptile.

Unlike _some_ people.

From where he sat in his office, Higgins could see Magnum through the window, lounging, relaxed, on the lawn, and it infuriated him.

For one thing, it wasn't Magnum's lawn. It was Robin's lawn. Magnum had no business sprawling across it like some grotesque parody of a Gil Elvgren model.

That wasn't all of it. Of course, that wasn't all of it. It was that he felt the need to laze about so blatantly, and in so little clothing.

Strictly speaking, it was not the state of undress that upset Higgins. After more than three decades of military service, he'd seen man in virtually every existing size, shape, color, and state of undress.

No. It wasn't that it was a man parading around the front of the Estate.

It was that it was Magnum.

And that was exactly why he couldn't bring himself to tell the detective off.

If he told him to take the heat like a gentleman, to put on something more than those ridiculously tiny shorts, he'd be admitting defeat. Admitting he'd noticed.

Magnum was paid to find evidence for a living. He was a smart man, when he wanted to be.

Higgins wouldn't have a chance to explain.

That upset him more than the sunbathing, much more, because he didn't have to guess what Magnum's reaction would be. He'd seen hints of it, sometimes, on the rare occasions when circumstances kept them both up late, on the nights when conversations would drift from Vietnam to Africa, when nostalgia and bittersweet memories would steel over one or both of them. He'd seen it, then, in Magnum's eyes which always gave away too much, the one tell he'd never been able to shake.

It wasn't anger or disgust, or, God forbid, interest.

It was pity.

No, Higgins, didn't dare to bring that upon himself, not when those rare moments were enough to nearly undo him.

Glistening in the sun, Magnum was exercising in full view of the study. Higgins watched the pumping of his strong arms masochistically as he did a set of pushups. The private detective paused to adjust his footing, and started his next set with one hand held behind his back.

Higgins's fingers twitched against the keys of his typewriter. Somewhere close to the door, Zeus whined softly, and he shifted his gaze to the dog, letting the sight of Magnum, athletic and gleaming, burrow into the darkest recesses of his memory like a tropical parasite. The lads were dozing in the doorway, panting softly, their black coats soaking up heat so that they were blistering hot to the touch. He rose to his feet with a quiet grunt, and made his way to the kitchen to filled their bowls with cool, clean water. At the sound of the tap running, the dogs rushed to his side, mouths gaping, tongues lolling at the sight.

Once they were sufficiently watered, Higgins let his legs carry him back to the window. He leaned against it and squinted in the sunlight.

Magnum was on his back now, curling up and stretching out as he worked through a set of sit-ups. Part way through, he began to draw his knees up towards his chest, left, then right, to increase the difficulty.

The words of an old song surfaced in Higgins's mind. _Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun._ Magnum was neither, yet there he was, endangering his health as he pushed his body to its limits in the heat. Higgins had a dangerous thought, a momentary lapse in judgment, and within minutes, he found himself out on the lawn, walking towards the detective, an ice-cold glass of water in his hand. It was only when Magnum noticed him, and stood up, that he realized what a bad idea it had been to join him.

Magnum was dripping and flushed, the thick, curling hairs on his chest plastered to him with sweat. Perspiration trailed down his face and neck, gleamed on his pectorals and drew Higgins's gaze downward before he could stop himself. When he found himself staring at the waistband of Magnum's shorts, his eyes snapped back up again, too quickly.

"Is that for me?" the younger man asked, eyeing the water hungrily. Higgins was tempted to drink it, as his mouth was suddenly as dry as the Kalahari, but he swallowed thickly and managed a nod.

The detective took it from him, the pads of his fingers brushing over the Brit's knuckles, and raised it to his lips. He tilted his head back and drank, his eyes falling shut in pleasure at quenching his thirst. Water saturated his moustache and spilled down over his chin, drenching his chest in cold liquid, the sudden temperature change making his nipples stand taut and firm. It rained down his stomach, wetting his shorts until they were near transparent. A shiver shook the Englishman so violently he nearly gasped aloud.

The moment might've lasted days, spellbinding as it was, but it was over in a matter of seconds as Magnum splashed the last of the water into his face, shaking droplets out of his hair like a dog. He grinned and Higgins realized that he was being teased.

It stung.

"Thanks for that," Magnum said warmly, with just enough sincerity in his voice to make Higgins's stomach lurch with a sudden, desperate hope that faded as quickly as it flourished.

"Yes. Well. One must keep oneself hydrated in temperatures such as this," Higgins forced out. "There are any number of heat-related maladies that can befall a man if he isn't careful."

There was a pause. Magnum stared at him, searching his face. _Damn it, man, move your bloody legs,_ Higgins thought, yet he could not will himself to flee. He was pinned, like an insect to a mounting board, and Magnum, acting-entomologist, was cataloging the details of his tense posture, the stiffness in his limbs. The fear in his eyes.

Sweat soaked his collar and ran down his back, pooling at the base of his spine, making Higgins hyper aware of his own body in a way that upset him.

Magnum took a step towards him and opened his mouth to speak, and it was then that Higgins's legs finally caught up with him, and he was retreating to the sanctuary of the house.

"Don't stay out here too long. It won't do to over-expose yourself to full sun," he managed to say over his shoulder.

"Jo-"

Higgins all but ran to the front door, slamming it behind him with such force that he heard Apollo give a warning bark in reply from the kitchen. He didn't slow his stride until he was cloistered in his study. His heart was racing. He was breathing hard. He undid the top button of his shirt and sank, panting, into a chair. He glanced up through the window and saw Magnum standing, exactly as he'd left him, looking perplexedly at the front door.

Higgins shuddered and inhaled deeply, forcing the air back out through pursed lips, counting off numbers in his head until his heartrate slowed. He ran a hand over his face, and was struck with a hysterical urge to laugh.

The first time he'd felt real heat, he'd been afraid he would swoon in it, wasting away as sweat seeped into his soul. He'd been young then, and he'd thought that the temperature would prove too much for him. Older now, he knew better.

He could withstand any kind of heat.

 

 


End file.
